Typo
by Stylin' Breeze
Summary: "I'll be ever," the message read. Shirabu wasn't sure what to make of it until Goshiki showed up on his doorstep. So he decided to make the most of the impromptu meeting. (Next Gen Captains Week Day 6)


Kenjirou Shirabu wasn't sure what to make of the text message from likely future ace Tsutomu Goshiki. Initially he'd sent a message saying a pipe burst at his home, and it was flooded.

Then a little bit later he sent a second text that, every time Shirabu looked at it, still didn't make sense:

"I'll be ever"

Ever _what_?Never? Every? Even? None of those made sense either. Not that Shirabu needed to spend his entire evening worrying about the slightly dense wing spiker. He'd sent him condolences about the flooding but chose not to reply to this second communication. And now Shirabu resigned himself to a quiet night at the Shiratorizawa dorms as his roommates were away.

As soon as he stretched on his bed, somebody banged raucously on the door. Mildly miffed, Kenjirou flung open the dorm entrance.

And there stood Goshiki, a bulging duffel bag over one shoulder, a furled up sleeping bag under the other arm, and an idiotically wide smile on his face.

"I'm here!" he joyfully proclaimed.

"For what?!" erupted Shirabu as Tsutomu waltzed in.

"To stay! I said I was coming over," Goshiki grinned putting the duffel and sleeping bag on the floor in the center of the living room. Shirabu grabbed his phone, searching for any messages he missed. He paused on the text ending in "ever."

"I said I'd be over, and you didn't reply, so I assumed it was OK," Goshiki chirped.

"You idiot! You misspelled _over_."

"Oh, I did?" Goshiki dumbly said. "Aw, well. They said we can't go back in the house for a few days, so my parents are in a hotel, but I figured I'd save them money by staying with a friend."

Shirabu wanted to question why he had been the unlucky choice but dropped the matter. There was no point in throwing Goshiki out now, and it was still break, so his roommates were out of town and wouldn't know a thing.

Besides, he had been thinking about Tsutomu earlier that day and what the team was going to do once school resumed—when the previous third-years wouldn't be present and when Shirabu would officially take over the squad.

"It's fine," Kenjirou shrugged, " _but_ let's talk."

Goshiki was intrigued. "Sure. What about?" he said with a smile. They both sat cross-legged on the living room floor.

"You know you have to get better if you're going to be the ace."

Goshiki flinched. It was something he didn't want to think about, but he knew he had to improve to take the place of someone as larger-than-life as Ushijima.

"Mhm," Goshiki nodded.

"First thing," Shirabu continued," you need to shape up."

"Yes, sir!" Goshiki affirmed mechanically.

"I said, you need to shape up," Kenjirou restated.

"Uh, yes, sir," he repeated with confusion.

"You're not listening to me."

"I answered you," Tsutomu replied.

"But you don't _mean_ it. You're just _saying_ you'll do it!"

Goshiki had no retort. He was a bit perplexed. Yes, he knew he had to improve. That would come with time. Every time he went out to play or practice, he was improving. What was the big deal?

"Ushijima's not here anymore," Shirabu continued stonily, "so he can't make up for your inadequacies any longer." Tsutomu felt a lump in his throat. "Coach is going to be extra hard on you now. But that's because he knows you can do it."

"Yes," Goshiki nodded, though still very much befuddled. He already knew everything Shirabu was articulating; and at his final address to the team, Ushijima had personally entrusted the team's success to his care. He was well aware of the magnanimity of the task before him.

Shirabu rubbed his forehead amidst a sleep-deprived headache. He had to get his point across somehow while he had this chance.

"Tsutomu," Shirabu resumed, "could we have beaten Karasuno?"

The incongruous question surprised Goshiki. He reflexively sounded an "uh" as he mulled. He began to run simulations of his foes in his head, looking for things he would have done differently, and zeroing in on a few critical points. However, he couldn't change those things in the blink of an eye; Shiratorizawa was ultimately bested by a superior squad, and that was that.

"The answer is yes we could have," Shirabu impatiently continued before Goshiki could reply. Tsutomu blushed over getting the answer wrong, even if he hadn't yet vocalized it. "If we had gone to nationals, could we have beaten Inarizaki or Itachiyama? Could we have won nationals altogether?" the setter continued. Before Goshiki could ponder, he answered rhetorically: "Yes, we could have. It was all within the realm of possibility. But you have to be _willing_ to do whatever is necessary to achieve that goal. And then, you have to be _able_ to do it, on the court, when it actually counts."

Goshiki was silent. Kenjirou was dead-on, he surmised. But he still wondered why the setter was bringing it up.

Shirabu leaned forward, gazing irksomely into Tsutomu's eyes.

"I know you have the potential to beat Karasuno. But you're not _willing_ to do what it takes in the meantime."

The lump in his throat became unbearable now. Tsutomu gulped uncomfortably.

Shirabu continued: "Remember at the camp when you were dismissive of talking to Ushijima after Karasuno's #10? You're letting Ushijima's shadow hold you back. Well, you _are_ Ushijima now. And if you're going to fill those shoes, you can't just be satisfied with how good you are right _now_."

Tsutomu relaxed at the compliment, as backhanded as it was.

"You're a good player," Kenjirou concluded with direct sternness. "But you're a long way off, and if you want to be Shiratorizawa's new power hitter, you need to get over yourself and _work_ for it."

Tsutomu's gaze dropped as he, at last, began to process the captain's words. It was slightly annoying that someone was able to read him so easily. And although Goshiki could not agree to the choice of words, he reluctantly felt that Shirabu was right.

The setter got to his feet and headed for his bedroom.

"Anyway, yeah, you can stay here," he said as he entered the adjoining space. "Don't take anything from the fridge without asking me, or you're dead meat."

Goshiki shivered at the dagger-stare that emanated from the setter. He quickly nodded understanding.

"And one more thing," Shirabu said with a calmer tone. "More than anything, I _need_ you to step up this year." Goshiki furrowed his brow in confusion. "With you as Shiratorizawa's power hitter drawing all the attention, I can complete my goal."—he smirked with a hint of diabolicalness—"To be the most inconspicuous setter in the game."

Goshiki was mightily intrigued. He couldn't immediately envision what Shirabu's goal would look like, but he could tell instantly his teammate was serious.

And, in addition to transforming himself into the worthiest spiker in all Japan in the wake of Ushiwaka, Shirabu's goal sounded like a noble cause worth assisting in at the same time.


End file.
